BOYS, TOO, MEN

The rumors about Upson College were certainly true. Everywhere he looked, Dean Jones' eyes feasted on virile manliness. He thought he'd be observing a class of adolescent boys starting out in the world of bodybuilding. Instead, the private school's weight room boasted 8 of the humpiest studs he'd ever seen outside of a bodybuilding convention.

At 6', 180 pounds, the young Dean was no slouch when it came to physical development, but the smallest guy here couldn't be less than 230.

He walked up to a pair of boys/men who were working out together. One looked like an Olympic gymnast; the other a bouncer at a rock concert and yet their youthful faces betrayed the fact that they were still boys.

"Excuse me. Is the sophomore body building class meeting here?" Dean Jones asked the sandy haired bouncer-type. He was curling a 200 pound free weight effortlessly. The junior college professor felt his loins stir as he watched huge male arms in action.

"Uh - yes sir. We're all sophomores," the man boy replied politely. The Upson emblem on his T-shirt strained around pecs the size of basketballs and veins in his thickly-haired forearms coursed with blood.

"Really?" the Dean was astonished. "Do you mind if I ask how old you are."

"Um- I'm fifteen and Jacob is fourteen and a half, sir."

"You can't be serious!" Dean Jones challenged. But the muscle boys both stopped what they were doing. Their eyes stared up and behind Dean Jones.

"Pretty impressive, wouldn't you say?" came a voice as deep and resonant as a bullhorn in his ear. Dean Jones was startled to say the least as a hand circled the small of his back.

He turned and hit his glasses on a pectoral muscle which protruded a good three inches beyond the largest male chest Dean Jones had ever seen or imagined. Two immense hands steadied him as he fumbled for his glasses. When he could see more clearly, Dean Jones just couldn't believe how big this man's chest was. His pecs defied gravity as they billowed out over his abs and created a huge overhang. His nipples were silver-dollar sized and the nubs as large as some men's' cock heads were actually pointing towards the floor because his chest was so huge and thick. His arms were unbelievably carved and coursed with more veins than Jones cared to count, but he quickly estimated his chest at about 65" and his arms a solid 25". His waist tapered to an unbelievable narrowness and a black kid leather posing strap bulged to overflowing.

The stunningly handsome giant stood patiently as the Dean tried to take in at least a part of him without being too obvious about it. The giant was quite used to other men's amazed staring.

"H-Hi, I'm Dean Jones. I'm here to observe."

"David Furlong." The two shook hands. So this was the famous Furlong. Dean Jones had heard so much about the extraordinary abilities of the athletic coach at Upson that he was curious to meet the man. As usual, rumors rarely represent reality.

"Back to work gentlemen!" Furlong's orders made everyone jump.

"I can't believe these fellows are sophomores," Dean Jones enthused as he tried surreptitiously to take in more of the coach's immensity. Far from being inhibited, Furlong actually guided Jones' eyes as he casually tweaked an inch long nipple, ran his fingers along a cable-sized vein in his arm, and even found the massive tube of muscle inside his posing strap and adjusted its bulk, coping it openly. "What are your seniors like?"

"We can work up to that," Furlong smiled cryptically. The obvious bulge in the new faculty member's dress pants told the colossal coach everything he needed to know for now. Dean Jones was doing his utmost to keep from coming down his right thigh.

"I hope you don't mind me watching, David, but I'm starting to work out my budgets for next term and saw you'd requisitioned a stage?"

"Yes. And video equipment. My students and I have no problem with people like yourself watching, Dr. Jones. In fact, I was going to show these men some posing routines if you like?" Dean Jones liked that a lot.

"That would be amazing, Dr. Furlong."

"All right, gentlemen, listen up!" Furlong's bass shook the weights, "this is Dean Jones, our new Dean of Finance. Say, `Hello, sir!'" And everyone did exactly that. "I'm going to show you some advanced posing routines. Ryker. Fulsom. I want you on either side of me to begin. Anderson get the door. Askin - posing oil and gear. Bradcock, bring Dean Jones a chair - or better still.. Dr. Jones, all of my students are trained in the art of full-body massage. We would like to give you a demonstration, if you're interested."

Dean Jones nodded, speechless. "Put me down for `Yes' on that," he thought trying to retain some sense of reality in this Herculean haven.

"Good. Bradcock. 86 the chair and bring the massage equipment, then everyone line up here! Do it!!" The room was alive with activity. With machine-like efficiency, eight adolescent musclemen ran eagerly to do their Coach's bidding. "You'll need to get more comfortable, Doctor. Jefferies, take Dr. Jones' suit coat, briefcase, shoes and tie to my office."

"Right away, sir!"

Before he knew what had happened. Dr. Edward Jones was seated on the edge of a large massage table. Six eager young studs were lined up in front of him, their lithe bodies at full attention for inspection. "As you all know, gentlemen, a proper massage requires two boys. Starting from left to right, sound off your last name and your body weight in pounds."

"Alexander, sir. 250, sir."

"Benson, sir. 220, sir."

"Jacobs, sir. 260, sir."

"Thomas, sir. 235, sir."

"Stevens,sir. 200, sir."

"James, sir. 268, sir."

"Very good, gentlemen. Ryker. Fulsom."

The two most muscular lads who were to pose off with Coach Furlong answered in unison, "Yes sir!"

"Where are your posing straps?"

"In our lockers, sir. Sorry, sir," Ryker answered a bit sheepishly.

"Two hundred pushups, gentlemen. Do it!" But far from punishment, the two relished the pump their muscles would have when finished." They both began so quickly that Dean Jones quickly lost count.

"Whereas a posing strap has certain esthetic advantages, gentlemen," Coach Furlong inserted his thumbs inside the black leather of his posing trunks and pulled them out to the breaking point, "some of you have no doubt experienced the joys of posing in the Greek manner." Nine gasps filled the air as Coach Furlong released the pent up monster which the boys had only whispered about. Fourteen inches of semi-hard male splendor unfurled like a spinnaker in the wind and arched outwards. The perfect uncut head kissed one flaring glute and then the other as man meats like oranges supported the great weight. No one breathed. Even Ryker and Fulsom had stopped pumping out effortless pushups to watch the unveiling.

It was Dr. Furlong himself who broke the silence. "Dr. Jones. Would you care to select two able masseurs?" he asked with a wink and a smile. "You must be tired after a heavy day of accounting and a brisk massage is perfect for those tired muscles."

"Uh- yes. Thank you Dr. How about James and Jacobs." The two, having been selected smiled proudly.

"Good. The rest of you get your notebooks and write this down. Stevens take shorthand for Ryker. Alexander for Folsom. Benson for James and Thomas for Jacobs. Ryker and Folsom, the posing oil. Do it!"

Amidst the activity, James and Jacobs approached Dean Jones who still could not believe the sheer mass of these two. What kind of program would account for such development? They each took one of Jones' feet and removed a sock. "Sir? Would you please stand up so we can remove your shirt and pants?"

Dean Jones was somewhat flustered. The proximity of these two hunks was bound to push his raging hard on over the top this time. "That's alright boys. I can manage."

"Sir?" Jacobs put his hand firmly but very respectfully over Jones'. "Sir. That's alright, sir. It's better if we do it."And the two stood him up as easily as a small child. Jones began to panic. Try as he might, he could not fight his erection any longer.

What happened next was the most extraordinarily quick action Jones had ever seen. His belt was undone, his fly opened, his briefs pulled down and Jacob's mouth had completely devoured his 9" erection just as he shot the most uncontrollably intense orgasm of his rather parochial twenty-six years. As he continued to shoot, his ears began ringing and the echo of his voice came back to him as he started to come down from sensory overload. It was accompanied by the applause and cheers of the entire assembly. "Alright Jacobs! Way to go! James my man!" Dean Jones wondered what was going on. Suddenly the room was silent and everyone was looking to Coach Furlong. Had there been a breach of etiquette with the cheering? Was it bad form to embarrass their guest this way? Fulsom was rubbing copious amounts of oil into two boulder size buttocks and Ryker slathered the length of Furlong's gigantic cock with more oil. With another knowing wink and a smile of assurance and explanation, Coach Furlong spoke directly to Jones:

"It's considered very bad form to miss the top cream, Doctor. Good job, Jacobs!!"

And another round of manly approval rang out. Jacobs stood up. Jones still couldn't grasp how wide and packed with muscle the fellow's shoulders and arms were. He smiled with a handsome boyish innocence and looked deep into his Dean's confused but satiated , eyes. "It's my pleasure, sir." He hadn't missed a drop of Dean Jones' seed.

Both Jacobs and James removed their own T-shirts in unison. "As we begin," James, the larger of the two offered, "Please feel free to explore any or all parts of or bodies with yours, sir." Jacobs finished the sentence. "And if there's anything at all we can do to increase your pleasure, sir, please don't hesitate to say so."

As Coach Furlong's lecture about the history of body building began, Dean Jones started designing a stage in his mind. With his magic suctioning, Jacobs was coaxing more of the good Doctor's semen through a specially designed hole in the tilted massage table while James' powerful hands eased every knot and care out of his body. "The stage needs lots of lighting." Dean Jones thought as Coach Furlong demonstrated perfect penal control by willing his 18" cock to full erection and then down again without ever touching himself.

"It's a technique used in the far east even today. Often the practitioner will orgasm repeatedly as a form of mind body control."

"A fully equipped video studio is a must," Dean Jones enthused to himself as the incredible Dr. Furlong lifted each of his students in either hand and, holding them aloft, fucked them with his middle two fingers then helped himself to the resulting sperm by placing one man's cock and then the others gently to his lips as a display of pure brute force.

James had found the secret passage to Jones' anal desire with his tongue as Jones began to formulate a list of exclusive donors and sponsors who would be willing to back such a project. Coach Furlong finished the lecture with a review of the conventional poses in western body building. Folsom and Ryker followed his lead expertly causing Jones to cream for the sixth time that evening.

Dressing rooms, specially designed seating and a projection booth went on Dean Jones list as, never taking his eyes off Jones, Coach Furlong positioned the immensity of his hard cock at Ryker's prostrated asshole and then shoved the entire length to its hilt in one gut wrenching thrust. Taking advantage of Ryker's extreme vocal response to the invasion, Folsom plunged his 11'" dick down Ryker's throat. Holding the buttboy's legs while Folsom took the arms, The two assailants began fucking in unison. It's quite probable the heads of their dicks met somewhere in the middle.

Furlong Auditorium is what they'd call the beautiful structure in honor of the man who inspired it - Coach David Furlong! Dean Jones was determined to understand more about this young master of muscle growth, mass and size.